Eagle of the fjord
by ravelin
Summary: The Assassins are trying to prevent a Piece of Eden fall into Templar hands, but the mission went wrong and brought their centuries-old vendetta to Arendelle. Facing this new crisis, Anna is trying to prove that she is a capable member of royalty and can take good care of the kingdom, while Elsa—after nearly lost Anna twice—is determined to keep her sister safe. Gen. M for violence
1. Prologue: Halt, You Swine!

Eagle of the fjord

**A/N:** Hi, Everybody. This is the first fanfic I've published; well, first in English anyway. I've always felt there's something that haven't quite being addressed in Frozen, and I think it's something that would lend itself quite well to the Assassin's Creed theme, so I decided to write a story about those aspects. Chronologically this story is set six months after the movie's events, and there are inspirations gained from deleted scenes and outtakes, so there might be some OOC elements. The prologue is based on the deleted scene "Halt, You Swine!" which I've adapted it to fit the cannon and timeline.

I would greatly appreciate your opinions and feedbacks, constructive criticisms are welcome.

**Disclaimer: Assassin's Creed belongs to Ubisoft, and Frozen belongs to Disney.**

Prologue: Halt, You Swine!

_That pig's a stinker!_

Princess Anna climbed out of the freezing water, and pulled herself over the low seaside wall. She's soaking wet, even the slightest winter breeze can make her shiver.

_Why is everything so hard?_ She just want to help a little boy find his lost pig, and so far she managed to trash the town's circus, ruined all the pies prepared by the royal chef, and fell into the fjord. She shivered again when the very thought of fjord crossed her mind.

She always thought that since she saved the kingdom from the Eternal Winter months ago, and became best buddies with her sister again after all these years, her life would take turn for the better, but reality clearly beg to differ.

This winter hit the kingdom especially hard, poor harvest had pushed everyone on their edge; people don't have enough to put on their plates, and there were rumours saying villages in some far-flung corners of the kingdom were facing starvation. Now her dearest sister, Queen Elsa, had to negotiate food trades with other countries in order to relieve the situation. Perhaps if they were lucky, some new diplomatic treaties can be signed tonight.

_Politics!_ Anna scoffed as bad memories surfaced in her mind, bad memories of things she wish to undo; two weeks ago there was another diplomatic event, another effort to negotiate food trades, now famously joked as "The Huge Screw-up of Her Royal Highness" among diplomats, all thanks to the fact that she, the Princess of Arendelle, made the kingdom in to an international laughingstock; and if it wasn't for Elsa's saving throw, Anna had no idea how much worst things will turn out. Now these diplomats talk behind her back; she knew what they say about her: Not every king bears a prince_,_and_certainly not every queen bears a princess_.

The princess shook her head, it was embarrassing enough, and everyone were disappointed, even Kristoff was angry with her at first, why wouldn't he? Leaving Sven at the palace's food storage on that day without tying his rein, and accidentally left the door open, of course the curious reindeer gonna find his way in, gorge on all those fudge cakes and suffer from… what was that word again? _Theobromine poisoning_. How could she never consider _chocolates_ might be poisonous to animals when her boyfriend entrusted her to take care of his beloved reindeer? I_t's my fault!_ Anna thought to herself; now she could only wish that, with fresh mountain air and both Kristoff and Olaf at his side, Sven can make a speedy recovery in the vet's sanctuary.

Anna sighed, now she misses Kristoff even more.

The princess walked in the lighthouse's shadow, all along; her soaked clothes weighting down on her, a thin frost formed on the fabric, turning its surface in to an icy shell, now even breathing took her some extra efforts; Anna scoffed, stretched out her arms and broke the frost crust.

_It will be fine!_ She assured herself, _I'll turn this around; I'll get my chance and show them I can take care of things on my own! I'll show them I'm_no less_a stateswoman than Elsa, and I_am_the_right hand_my sister deserves! I'll prove it, starting with that darn pig!_

Anna glanced around; she finds the mud trail left behind by the pig, leading to the marketplace next to the harbor, and she strode along it with decisive steps. Turned around a corner, the swine she's after appeared in her sight, eating out of the hand of a hooded man, "Gotha!" Anna laughed in excitement, rushing at the pig with her full speed and exclaimed: "Halt! You swine!"

The pig squealed as it fled the charging princess, and squeezed itself under a wooden cart. _Oh-no_! Anna grasped, finding herself diving towards the same cart as well, she tried to stop, but momentum carried her forward, there's no stopping now. _This is gonna hurt…_ the princess closed her eyes, her body tensed, and prepared for the impact.

And an impact came, not on her head, but on her belly. _Wait, what?_ Anna felt an arm grabbed her at the waist and stopped her in the track, she opened her eyes in surprise, the momentum forced her to perch forward, nearly hit her head on the cart, but the arm dragged her back the last second. _Phew!_ The princess sighed in relieve, and calmed her pounding heart, _that's_ _a close call._ If she got hurt _again_, Elsa would be worried, and Anna didn't want to give her sister more trouble, the queen got _enough_ problems to deal with already. The princess looked down, saw an arm engulfed in a brown-grey sleeve, and noticed there was something underneath the sleeve, pressing on her stomach.

"You alright?" she heard a voice asked , casual but concerned, yet somehow also sounded hoarse, as if the speaker had a sore throat.

"Uh… Oh! Me? I'm okay." Anna turned around and saw the hooded man, who held her up with a single hand, his shirt collar was sealed by a simple cravat—brand new and clean—with the initials _A. H._ stitched in red threads. And then there was a _faint smell_ coming from him—a smell of _burnt sugar_ mixed with something else which Anna can't quite place. The princess tried to get a glimpse of the man's face, but his features were made hard to discern by shadows casted from his hood, hidden in plain sight. Only his stubble and some fresh _bruising_ on his nose grabbed most of the attentions.

_Bruising? Was he in a fight? Or did I just accidentally hit someone again?_

Anna clear her throat, felt embarrassed; she pulled herself back and blushed, but she soon caught herself again: "I'm… I'm great! Thank you"

"Ah, don't mention it." The hooded man weaved his hand and dismissed it, didn't seem to realize he's talking to a princess. Anna's curiosity rose further; the stranger stood in front of her, svelte and athletic, scratching the back of his gloved hand, while carrying a woven basket in one arm. The hood he was wearing—with a peak pointed down like a raptor's beak—was attached to his long coat, a overfrock similar to the ones worn by her middle-class subjects. The coat was dirty, a glaring contrast to his cravat, like it had been through a blizzard; he wore the coat casually, unbuttoned; a leather strap tied across his chest, securing a_crossbow o_n his back. And the princess noticed a name carefully carved on the crossbow's side: _Lucia_.

_Curious guy,_ Anna thought, _What could Lucia mean? Luciadagen? Winter solstice? Lussekatt buns?_

The princess glanced up, realizing the hooded man was also looking at her from above; his eyes swept across the princess, allowing no details to escape his sight; they reminded her of an eagle's gaze—an eagle of the fjord. Anna felt an unexpected chill, and shivered once more.

_Okay…. Better be careful Anna,_ the princess cautioned herself, _Last time you run into a stranger in the harbor, he turns out not who you think he is…. don't make the same mistake again…_

And then the hooded man's voice broke her line of thought, he spoke with curiosity, tried to sound gentle as well, despite the hoarseness in his voice, but it came out awkward:

"Is that… pie in your hair?"

**A/N: This story really isn't about pairing, but I don't plan on breaking any existing pairs at the end either. **


	2. Chapter 1: Piece of Eden

Eagle of the fjord

Chapter 1 Piece of Eden

January, 1846

Christiania, Norway.

Under the cover of night, a hooded figure skimmed across the snow-covered rooftops.

The figure, lean and tall, moves in complete silence, and navigates the buildings with calculated precision, sprinting from roof to roof, leaping from one building to the next, traversing the city skyline as if on levelled grounds. His dark green tailcoat—a modified _Jägare_ officer's uniform—clocked him against the brightly lid street below; like a phantom or spirit gliding across the night sky.

Strapped on the man's back, were an old air rifle and a knapsack, both ponderous and cumbersome; but such burden did not hamper his efficiency, as the hooded figure traverse the snowy rooftops with near-preeminent grace and fluidity, leaving a trail of foot prints behind.

Right after him, a second figure appeared; followed closely to the first, pursuing with the ferocity of an avian predator.

The second figure was clad in a brown-grey coat—an overfrock worn unbuttoned, its lower skirt fluttered behind him like eagle's tail-plume. A satchel strapped across his chest, hung beneath his left arm; and on his back was a custom build _Girandoni Air Rifle_, overused, yet well maintained; a name had been carefully carved on the forestock of this rifle—_Lucia._

This man was no less agile than the leading figure, darting from one rooftop to the next; the fluidity in his movements rivaled that of the man in front. Like a bird of prey, swift and silent.

The path ahead of these two figures had been cut off by an ample avenue, a chasm that separated the two sides. And the only passage to cross this ravine was a zip-line, tide between two wooden poles erected on the ledges.

As they approach the zip-line, the second figure accelerated, and silently drew out a _hatchet_.

The first figure continued his approach without notice. He swung out his arm and a narrow blade sprang from beneath the leading man's wrist, with a hook at its tip, carved in to a falcon's beak. The man leaped forward and clutched his Hookblade on to the zip line, slid down the line moments before the second man caught up with him.

Immediately behind him, the second figure darted upwards, he raised his hatchet as he soared in to the air, and then swung it towards the zip line.

The hatchet clung on to the zip line; the second figure clenched its haft tightly and descended towards to the opposite side. The zip line vibrated as the man in front of him jumped off. The second man followed closely, pulling on his hatchet to detach himself, and dived towards the ledge.

He stumbled as he lands, but quickly regained balance. The leading figure heard the commotion behind, and halted; he turned sideways, glancing from under his hood and broke the silence: "_Arnved_, Are you all right?"

"Sure, I'm fine, don't worry." Arnved replied, raised his hand and gestured to his partner, in that brief moment, a Hidden Blade can be glimpsed strapped under his forearm, with an emblem drawn on its leather bracer—the emblem of the _Assassins_.

"Good, don't fall behind then."

The man in front of Arnved acknowledged with a grin, and then resumed sprinting. The Assassin followed, keeping up with his partner, and then he heard the rapid beats of hoofs coming from the street below, accompanied by the rumble of wheels. He turned to its source, and saw a carriage speeding along the muddy road, splashed a mixture of mud and snow to its side. Arnved shut his eye and concentrated his mind for an evanescent moment, and bring forth _the sense_—his _Eagle's sight_—and when reopened his eye, Arnved sensed a subtle golden hue surrounded the carriage, and he knew that is the target they've been tailing all along.

"Ejner! Look!" the Assassin called out to his partner—the leader of the pair and his brother-in-arms, he pointed him towards the carriage, "Donovan's ride." Ejner glanced at it without stopping, and nodded at Arnved as confirmation: "Just as I thought, we've caught up with him again. _Don't stop_, we need to _keep_ going!"

Arnved picked up his speed, continued to pursue the carriage. They've been tailing that carriage ever since it entered the city, like falcons tracking down a hare; that carriage had the advantage of speed, but it was restricted to the finite grid of city streets; whereas the Assassins had the freedom of the skyline, the unrestricted mobility and vantage it provides, aided by their thorough knowledge of the city scape and their Eagle Vision, the Assassins can always keep their pace with their target, who remained ignorant of the birds of prey on his tail.

Their target in the carriage was an associate of the Templars, a foreign treasure hunter who had just returned from an expedition in _Hessdalen_—a valley known for its mysterious '_ghost lights'_. And in the _Hessdalen_ valley, this treasure hunter had unearthed an ancient artifact from a precursor site.

The artifact was called _the Strobilus_, also known as "the Seed of Yggdrasil". Both the Assassin Brotherhood and the Templar order knew this artifact was a _Piece of Eden_; if such Piece falls into Templar's hand, it would unquestionably tip the scale of this secret war further in their favor and cement their control over this earth. Arnved will not allow it to happen.

The carriage slowed down near an elaborate mansion, a double-story mansion that designed like those chalets on the Swiss mountainside, with gabled roofs, white weatherboardings and a few elegantly decorated balconies supported by finely chased brackets. It was located near the outskirts of the city and surrounded by smaller buildings all around. Arnved got to a vantage point on a nearby rooftop to get a batter overview of this mansion as the carriage entered its front courtyard.

The Assassin scanned the mansion with his Eagle's sight, and find the place was swarming with armed guards. Half a dozen stood at the gate and more stood near the front door; the courtyard was patrolled by squads of guardsmen; another pair stood at the entry of what seemed like a locked root cellar. There were two sharpshooters vigilantly patrolling on top of the roof, but were yet to notice the two Assassins hiding near them.

"Security's heavy, it seems the Templars are wearied , that's something you don't often see these days." remarked Ejner, who was coaching right next to Arnved behind the roof ridge, holding a pair of binoculars before his eyes, with his knapsack lying beside him, "I suspect there will be more inside the building."

"Looks like there are some important figures attending tonight." Arnved took out his binocular, placed it in front his eyes and took a closer look. He saw four figures came out of the heavily guarded front door to greet the treasure hunter, one was a Swedish news printing magnate and another was a Russian baron of the fishing industry; both were known to be Master Templars.

But the third figure he did not recognize, a woman looks no older than 30, dressed in a violet gown with a fur stole woren over her shoulders. She stepped ahead, her full head of golden ringlets swaying along the wind as she welcomed the treasure hunter as if she was the host.

Guarding at her side was gunman with an old-fashioned tricorn—a bodyguard who scanned the surroundings vigilantly while keeping one hand on his holster. Unlike other guards surrounded them, this bodyguard wore a black colored coat with bits of crimson highlights here and there, not unlike the Templar armor owned by the pirate Assassin Edward Kenway, or the infamous traitor Shay Cormac's attire —which was at least a century behind in fashion by now.

The bodyguard silently signalled two guardsmen to unload the carriage while the young woman was introducing her new guest to the other Templars.

"That woman seems to be their leader," Arnved concluded from what he just observed and asked quietly, "Do we have any information on her?"

"I'm afraid not," Ejner shook his head, "But if she is the Grand Master of this Templar cell, then we need to eliminate her at once."

"It'd be simpler if that's all we need to do," The Assassin sighed, "we've got an excellent line of sight here."

"Except with just the two of us we can't take out all of them at once" Ejner replied quietly, "Not to mention that our main objective is the Strobilus, remember? It seems we'll have to get inside that mansion."

"Of course," the Assassin replied in a whispering voice, the mission plan was to eliminate the Templar cell and their high-ranking members, and bring the POE to the harbour and rendezvous with a freight captain named Latimer, then sail out the Oslofjord and transport the artifact to the Assassin safe house in Svalbard. Arnved peered out of his binoculars again, "But with that many guards it's gonna be a helluva chase when we get out. What if we can't get to Captain Latimer and his ship?"

"Then we will change to our contingency plan, If anything goes wrong, we will rendezvous with our backup at the lighthouse, a Novice aliased Ausingr, whose family own a warehouse nearby; and we can take shelter there temporarily."

"I take it that you've never met this Novice?" Arnved narrowed his eyes and continued, "Since when do you allow the success of a mission to depend on someone you know nothing about?"

"Since never," Ejner assured him. "Jannicke and Voronina will be there as well; we've arranged every detail, everything will be safe and sound as long as we stick to our plan."

"Jannicke? Council woman Jannicke Hrím? Well that sounds slight more encouraging." The Assassin nodded, knowing their backups had much more experienced Assassins among the rank.

"It appears you don't have high hope for our plan?"Ejner asked.

"I always felt pre-laid plans are useless," scoffed the Assassin, "you can never take account for everything. Making them often cloud your head with uncertainty."

"Yet planning is still never the less essential. Don't be so impulsive." The team leader gently patted on Arnved's shoulder, while simultaneously scanning the courtyard, "We need to draft out our approach, there must be a way to get pass all these guards."

"I've got an idea, let's take to the air; look over there!" after a quick visual search, The Assassin pointed to a nearby building he find; it was slightly lower than their position, a bundle of ropes tied on one of its corner at one end, while the other end of the bundle was tied a beam on the mansion, it bridged the Assassin's side and the mansion; presumably used for support, perhaps it's the groundwork for a future telegraph line.

Arnved did some quick estimation and concluded that it would be enough to sustain a single man's weight, utilizing it would let him and Ejner by pass the ground patrol, only the two sharpshooters on the roof top could spot the assassin team coming from this route.

Another tiny drawback of this plan would be: the building was guarded by a trio of sentries, and they stood too far apart for one assassin to quickly take out, neither by melee nor by range.

"A strightforward route with minimum casualties," nodded Ejner, yet his face remained skeptical, "but we know nothing about the building's interior, what happens after we enter? How do we locate the POE? How many guards are inside? Whats the building layout? How are we going to get out? We can't be that _reckless_ Arnved, we need study their defence and to plan out all the details to ensure our mission can be accomplished smoothly and safely."

"When you are in a leading position, there are many burdens that you need to take on Arnved," Ejner turned to the Assassin and spoke softly, "all these little details need to be considered. "

"We can always use smoke bombs." Arnved half jokingly replied, and then shifted to a more serious expression, "Look, this is _not_ reckless Ejner. You can't always have _everything secure_ by plan out all the details and expect everything follow through, that's impossible! There are times in our lives that we must manage risks, we can't know all the outcomes that our actions would bring, in times like that we must take a _leap of faith_—I mean that_ figuratively_—and in the end, perhaps something good might come out of it."

"Are you suggesting that we go in without thinking it through?" Ejner shook his head, and asked skeptically, "there might be disastrous outcomes."

"_No!"_ asserted the Assassin, "Quite the opposite, I'm saying that our heads can be easily persuaded by our concerns, but we shouldn't cloud our heads with them and let them hamper out actions. Ok, I don't know the answer to those questions, but by the time we figure them out it would be too late! Sometimes you won't know the outcome unless you tried first. _Life's too short_ for you to play everything safe, Ejner."

Arnved turned his head and glanced at the Templars below, they were now entering the mansion, with a guard carrying a metal chest behind them, leaving his sight one by one. "We will improvise after we get in."

Arnved turned back to his brother-in-arm; Ejner appeared to be moved, but still hesitant. The Assassin fixed his sight on him and continued: "It's now or never Ejner; I can't do this along," Arnved lift his hand and reached out to his fellow brother, "what do you say bro? Let's do this together."

Ejner stood there for a few seconds, his sight shifted from Arnved down to the reaching hand. Finally the corner of his mouth curled up, and then he lifted up his hand, firmly clasped Arnved's palm: "_Together_."

Arnved's smiled, "what are we waiting for then?" He stood up and snapped out his Hidden Blade, the blade protruded, splinted, and pivoted, the Assassin grabbed the pivot blade like an ice pick before he started sprinting, "let's go!"

"I'll take out the two men on the left!" Ejner drew out his sword bayonet with his left hand, and overtook the Assassin.

"Then I call dibs on the shooting next!" Arnved scowled as his partner leaped out towards the first sentry, the assassin followed immediately, took to the air in a single bound.

Arnved touched down on the target building just as the first sentry being stroke down, he dashed ahead immediately after gotten a steady foothold, charging towards the second sentry with all his speed. When the sentry finally became aware of the Assassin's presence and turned around, he can do nothing besides frozen in fear. Arnved swung his pivot blade, and turned the man's last cry into gurgle. As the sentry fell, the Assassin whirled behind him, caught the dying sentry from the back, and simultaneously thrust his second blade. "Rest in Peace." Arnved whispered as he felt the sentry's essence fade away, providing some final kindness to the departing soul. He then lay down the lifeless body on the tiles, and closing its eyelids gently, like he did to the many others.

Arnved stood up and just in time to see his team leader in action again. Ejner sprinted at the last sentry; snapped out his Hookblade with a lithe whip of his arm, then clutched it on to the man's bandolier. With the aid of momentum, the team leader dragged the sentry off-balance and hurled him down. Then Ejner raised his bayonet, finished off the fallen sentry with a single strike. One hook, one throw, one kill, this was a Master Assassin at work.

Arnved watched his team leader retracted his Hookblade and shuts the sentry's eyelids with a soft brush of fingers. The Assassin pointed at the Hookblade and joked in a light-hearted tone to hearten the mood: "You just won't stop playing with your new toy, will you?"

The team leader turned after a final glance at his work, then sheathed his bayonet and went along: "Not a chance! This thing is _wonderful!_" he extended it with a playful twitch, and then retracted the hook back under his right wrist, "You should try it, really. I can get you one from a friend of mine; he works as an army consultant for the Ottoman Sultan."

"Nah thanks, I'll pass." Arnved waved his hand to dismiss him, and turned his gaze to the two sharpshooters on top of the mansion, they were yet to notice the Assassin team among all the darkness. Arnved continued, "Now that you mentioned it, how come you know someone who works for the Sultan? It's like you've got friends everywhere."

"I know people from all kinds of places,"Ejner replied with a smile, and put down his knapsack on the roof tiles, "connections as such come in handy from times to times."

Arnved nodded without commenting further, he unstrapped _Lucia _from shoulder, and the Two Assassins arranged their shooting spot, Arnved lied prone and slid his satchel in front of him before gently placed _Lucia_ atop it for better support, while Ejner setup a primitive looking wind gauge from his knapsack, this was a new combat method they've been experimenting for some times; so far this method had been effective, despite a few kinks still need to be work out. They checked their equipment for one last time and started analysis their targets.

"That one won't be any problem," The Assassin pointed at the closest shooter, seeing through his Eagle's sight, a faint red glow surrounded this barely visible target, he then turned to the second shooter, and frowned, "The one on the right however…"

"…is outside your range." Ejner crouched beside Arnved and voiced out his conclusion.

"We need to lure him closer," Arnved nodded, quickly studied their patrol route and had an idea, "here, I knock down the first target—the one closer to us—while he was in view of our second target, and when the sconed men come to aid, I take him out in one shot."

"Then I will keep an eye on both targets, you just focus on the shooting." Ejner nodded, and took out his binocular while getting a good read of the wind with his wind gauge, "ready when you are."

Arnved pulled off the leather glove on his right hand to get a better grip on the trigger, immediately the Assassin felt the winter coldness seeping through his skin; he took a deep breath, let the cold air fill his lung, then as Arnved slowly exhaled, he felt a serenity fell around him, as if the world has faded away, leaving only the target, _Lucia_ and himself. The Assassin placed his index finger on the trigger guard, aiming _Lucia_ at his target, and informed Ejner:

"I'm ready."

Then he heard Ejner's voice accompanied by the spinning sound of wind gauge, providing him details: "First target, the guardsman at twelve o'clock, range 135; come up two from torso."

"Guardsman twelve o'clock; come up two from torso." Arnved repeated the detail as confirmation, and then adjusted his aim accordingly.

"Wind from ten o'clock, half value," Ejner continued to call out wind data, and pause to calculate the wind speed, then gave the command, "Four to the left; spotter ready."

"Roger, four to the left;" Arnved adjusted his aim horizontally, took it in to the wind, then shifted his finger on to the trigger, "shooter ready."

"Send it" Ejner gave the firing command.

The Assassin gently pulled down the trigger and _Lucia_ send out the lead ball with a quiet crack, the bullet disappeared into the black of the night, and the gunshot dispersed into the howling wind. And a short moment later, Arnved saw with his Eagle's sight that his target jerked evanescently, and then fell on to the roof tiles. "Reloading." The Assassin informed his partner as he rolled on his back to load another round into the chamber.

"Lower body hit, left leg, good shot." Ejner revealed the result as he observed with his binoculars, "He's definitely wounded."

"And our second target?" Arnved asked, rolling back to shooting position with a fresh round in the chamber.

"He's coming this way, I think he took the bait." Ejner answered, without taking his eye of the binocular, "works like a charm."

Arnved turned his gaze to the first guardsman; the wounded man had just sat up, hands pressed around his leg, struggled to get back on his feet; the Assassin can't hear anything, but the pain he inflicted on the guardsman was clear as day. Since the plan worked, there's no point in prolong that man's agony. _No one deserves to suffer in this state_. The Assassin thought, he then nudged his spotter: "We can't leave him like that."

"No we can't." Ejner agreed, he looked down at the wind gauge, and called out adjustments for wind. The Assassin fired his air rifle again, put an end to the man's suffering which he had caused in the first place.

"Head shot, target down."Ejner concluded the man's final fate.

Now the second guard came in their view, approaching his downed comrade. Ejner identified the target for the Assassin, and Arnved took aim again, but suddenly he felt a gust of wind immediately followed by a spluttering sound from the wind gauge. _That can't be good_. The Assassin felt his heart sank.

"_Wind change_! Left to right full value; wind speed….No, _not now_!" He herd Ejner cursed, as expected, that primitive set of equipment doesn't deals well with sudden change in condition, and always need to be recalibrated. _The timing couldn't be worse_.

The Assassin scowled; his target now crouched beside the laying body; it won't be long until he figures out what is happening.

"Do you have the wind speed?" Arnved asked, actively kept his voice calm.

"No," Ejner replied, stress seeped out subtly from his voice, "You will have to take your best shot, Arnved."

The Assassin winced, his target now stood up gain, receding from the downed man and about to flee, Arnved must put him down before he raised the alarm; he'll need to find a way to figure out the wind quick.

The Assassin searched, and some tiny glimmering in the darkness caught his attention. Those were tiny snowflakes, picked up by the gusting wind from the roof tile, swirling around his target, and were highlighted by his Eagle's sight. _Great indicators of wind speed,_ _these wind and snow can be his allies._

The Assassin held his breath, quickly calculated the wind speed in his mind and took aim. _Lucia_ recoiled after a light pull of his finger, and shortly after, Arnved's target fell before his eyes.

"Center mass hit; excellent work." Ejner declared with a smile.

Arnved felt a weight had been lifted from his chest; he picked up both _Lucia_ and his satchel, and turned to Ejner with a grin: "That went better than I thought. Let me scout ahead, maybe I'll let you even out the score."

"Don't be smug, that won't be the most difficult shot you've ever taken." The team leader shook his head and chuckled, then he pulled out his air rifle and continued, "Go ahead, I'll cover you from this side."

The Assassin stepped on to the ropes, and felt them wobble under his feet, Arnved spread out his arms like wings to balance himself, and skimmed atop the ropes with nimble steps, soon he had crossed to the mansion.

The Assassin touched down on the roof top, and signaled Ejner, Arnved surveyed his surrounding while waited for the team leader changed to a different position. _Good,_ _no sign of guards._ The Assassin did a quick weapon check: rifle, hidden blades, hatchet, smoke bombs and rope darts; all within hand's reach. He then swooped down onto the balcony. and sneaked up to one of the glass doors, the curtains obscured the inside of building, but allowed enough light to spill out for him to proceed. Arnved squatted down, slipped out a lock pick from his satchel and started working.

While the Assassin focused on the lock, he felt a sense of unease crawling up his spine. The Assassin paused, listening to the silence; soon he ears picked up some faint chatter behind the wall, and the sound of turning door knobs. _Guards!_ Arnved felt his hair stood up on end as his body tensed up. The Assassin stepped back with his hatchet drawn, and wheeled as another glass door opened some distances away.

He saw two guards stroll out together, casually chatting while dragging a trail of fume around them. One of them caught a glimpse of Arnved, and hurried to direct his peer's attention. The Assassin hastily flung his hatchet at the guard, the man went down.

And now Arnved had no weapons that could silently take down the second guard; his blades and rope darts cannot reach him, and a gunshot from _Lucia_ will risk alerting more people inside. The Assassin turned to face the second guardsman, who's blankly staring at his fallen colleague, yet to comprehend this sudden turn of events. _If he calls for help, then the Templar will be alerted, must take him out_.

Arnved stepped forward out of desperation, refuse to let his mission fail; he reached for the rope darts on his belt, in a last ditch attempt to take down the guard. But the guardsman had already realized the situation, his mouth opened, about to shout.

But no sound ever came out. All of a sudden, the guardsman's body stiffened abruptly, and then dropped face down. Arnved sighed in relief, turned toward Ejner's location and gestured with gratitude. The Assassin retrieved his hatchet, then glanced at the tiny bullet hole on the back of the fallen guardsman's head and remarked: _Perhaps you really need to_ _keep an eye on your back._ Arnved squatted down and gently closed the eyes of two bodies. The Assassin then picked them up; one by one he carried them somewhere out of sight.

Ejner landed on the balcony just as Arnved finished hiding both bodies, and they entered the mansion together. The elaborately decorated interior of the mansion was brightly lit by gaslights. As he stepped in; the Assassin felt the cozy warmth of the indoor directly contrasts the freezing cold night on the outside. And his ears picked up the sound of hot steam surging through pipelines which borrowed within the walls, reminded him of the soothing sauna that he had loved so much back home in Finland.

_A steam based central heating system?_ Arnved scoffed, _Even the Brotherhood's _Headquarter_ did not have such luxury! _

Arnved looked around the room, it appeared to be a personal study of some kind, he drew out his hatchet and strode straight to the room's entrance, then leaned on the door and listened for sounds from the hallway, he heard on-one outside, and reached for the door knob. "Wait!" Ejner quietly called out, the Assassin turned and amusingly watched his fellow brother surveying the room with his eyes _closed_. Arnved tried to hold down his giggles, he knew that Ejner's Eagle Vision that functioned differently, allowing his team leader to sense objects behind obstacles; but it's always looked funny given the way he squirm his neck when using this talent.

"There!" The team leader pointed to a hardwood desk near the wall and strode up to it; he lifted up the desk cloth and revealed a tiny lock, "Come here and lend me a hand." The Assassin helped him as Ejner pried it open with his bayonet, and lifted up the wooden board. There was a hidden weapon cache inside, with several British made flintlock pistols lying in pairs.

"Impressive, how you knew that?" Arnved whistled, like he just saw a magic trick. "Call it experience, most Templars I encountered often hide a few firearms somewhere in their house; I thought I could try my luck."

The team leader replied, and took out an engraved Mahoney box from the cache, "I guess they these Templars are overconfident in their concealments, they didn't even store them properly."

Arnved laughed quietly; then again the long barrels of their Girandoni Air Rifles don't fare well indoors, and neither would hatchets and rope darts in a gun fight. The Assassin then grabbed an unpaired 1714 Model flintlock and shrugged: "I guess these outdated flintlocks will have to do."

"Actually, we are not using those." The team leader opened the Mahoney box and turned it around, joyfully presented its contents to Arnved—a pair of exotic looking pistols, both had a metallic cylinder in them yet with no visible triggers.

"These, brother, are _revolvers_." Ejner explained; the corner of his mouth rose into a smirk, with teeth visible, and his eyes were narrowed into a pairs of violet crescents; he was like a little boy showing off his favorite new toy, "I feel like it's Christmas again."

"Revolvers?" Arnved was baffled, and the gleeful expression on Ejner's face only made him even more so, he had never seen his partner so elated, "what's a revolver? Like a pepperbox?"

"No, not the same, these are more accurate." Ejner shook his head, and realized how ludicrous he just looked, and returned to the composed expression he always had, "They are called Colt Paterson revolvers, invented by an American dentist, Dr. Samuel Colt."

"Never heard of him," Arnved shook his head, and noticed an empty envelope lying in the box, he pulled it out. "So the Templars gets new inventions like this while we still using repeating air guns design from _before_ the French Revolution?"

"New?" Ejner gave him a miffed glare, "These were invented _ten years_ ago!" The team leader find some spare cylinders with ammunitions nearby, and started loading the revolvers, he then added: "Try to keep up with news from the other side of Atlantic, Arnved."

The Assassin shrugged, and started inspecting the envelope, The writing on it were _English_, not Norwegian, and it was sent from Donovan; Arnved can see it was registered to someone names Ashley Samara_. Could this _Ashley Samara_ be the woman we saw at the front door?_ The Assassin wondered, collapsed the envelope and pocketed it.

"Here, five shots are all that you have." The team leader had finished loading the revolvers and handed one to Arnved, he noticed the Assassin was glancing at all the other pistols, so he added: "it's the quality of your shots that count, not quantity."

Arnved took over the gun, scrutinized it in confusion: "Where's the trigger?"

The team leader cocked his revolver and the trigger popped down from the firearm's underside.

"_Humph!_" The Assassin scoffed, _with a clumsy fold-in trigger and an awkward reloading process that involves _disassemble_ the firearm? There are _no way_ these so called 'revolvers' will ever become popular._

The Assassin team exited the room; and fragments of conversation had been picked up by Arnved in the hallway. The duo traced the sound and sneaked further into the mansion, evading more guards on their way. As they get closer, not only can Arnved make out more of the conversation, he was also able to determine that the Templars were in the hall, on the floor beneath them. But the Assassins' path had been blocked by a locked door.

"Allow me." Ejner whispered while holding his lock pick. Arnved stepped aside, knowing the team leader is a more talented at such shadowy trade. The Assassin stood guard next to his partner; now with the door so close to the Templars, Arnved can hear their conversation in its entirety.

"…I believe I speak for everyone when I say the tale of your excavation in _Hessdalen_ is the most fascinating adventure we've ever heard, Mr. Donovan." Said a voice with a thick Swedish accent, "And I believe your loyal service to our Order and contribution to our cause over the years had proved you to be a faithful disciple. In my humble opinion, it's time to welcome Donovan into our folds. Does anyone oppose?"

No voice of opposition arose.

"Excellent then," the voice continued, "Lady Samara, would you do the honors?"

_Lady Samara?_ The Assassin pondered, _that must be the same_ Ashley Samara _mentioned on the envelope. _

Soon Arnved heard a woman's voice, asking Donovan to hold out his hand. The Assassin leaned his head closer to the door, listened with curiosity. _Is that what a Templar induction ceremony is like?_

"Do you swear to uphold the principles of the Templar Order; to bring Purpose and discipline to this world, no matter the cost?" Asked the lady's voice, "and never divulge information to those who are undeserving of such truth?"

"I do." Another voice responded, presumably Donovan's; the lady's voice continued: "Then you—like us—shall be a shepherd of humanity, the few strong minds that would shelter the masses from harm. Mark and recognize your responsibilities: To safeguard those who might risk afflict harm to themselves; to steer the course for those who are yet to steer it them themselves; and to take up the burdens of those who could not bear it themselves."

The lady's voice continued:

"Remember, it is our obligation; to _conceal_ the truth that would imperil order and security, to _confine_ the passion that would inspire chaos and undisciplined. Only then, can the world thrive in stability."

"From this moment onwards, you are a Templar, you are among brethren. And may the Father of Understanding guide us."

When she finished, multiple voices joined in unison: "May the Father of Understanding guide us."

_Won't for long,_ Arnved remarked in his head, _dream of a world made of frigid puppets all you want, your schemes end tonight, and we Assassins will rid the world of your influence. Enjoy your final moments of madness, for which will be your last. _

"Gentlemen," The Lady spoke again, "I hope you are well rested, and the exciting adventure of our new brother had put you all in high spirit. It is time for us to unlock the secret of the _Strobilus, _and reap the power this Pieces of Eden held. We have prepared our root cellar for just the occasion, if you please follow me."

"It's unlocked!" Ejner called out quietly, and the two Assassins sneaked out the door, swiftly moved to the interior balcony that oversees the living room. To their surprise, the Templars were gone, leaving only empty couches and a fireplace with embers still warm.

"They couldn't have gone far, and are still in the building," Arnved deducted after a quick survey of the room; he pointed at the coat stand, "Donovan's duster is still here, and so are the others' coats."

"The room is clear, no guards around,"Ejner gave the all clear after he carefully inspected the living room, "let us take a closer look." And then the two Assassins vaulted over the railing, deftly landed on the carpet in near silence. "They said they are leaving for the root cellar."Arnved focused his Eagle sight and tried to pick up any trace of those Templars.

"They couldn't have gone to the cellar without leaving the mansion," Ejner argued with his arms folded, and took an interest in the fireplace wall, "Unless there's a passageway somewhere." The Assassin turned to said wall, and saw something lights up in his view. On the side of the fireplace were a bookshelf; and his Eagle sight had mark a single book sandwiched among others.

_What's special about a single book?_ Arnved pondered as he walks up to the self and picked it out; the book was written entirely in German, the _only_ German book on that shelf. Arnved frowned, he couldn't understand any word of it; the Assassin handed the book to Ejner for assistance, and reached his other hand into the gap it left behind.

"This is a collection of late Karl Ludwig Harding's star charts, a professor of astronomy." the team leader leafed through the pages, "However, I don't see anything special in here."

_Aha!_ The Assassin felt his fingertip touched a tiny knob, he pushed it down, and a crack of a wooden door came from behind. "Open Sesame." Arnved smirked.

"Neat." Ejner put the book aside and smiled; they walked up to the entrance, and saw a stairway spiraled downward. Arnved turned to face the team leader, kept that smirk on his face: "shall we?"

"Why not?" Ejner grinned back, and stepped in to the hidden stairwell, "We've come this far already."

The Assassin smiled and followed Ejner, the stairwell wasn't as dark as he had imagined, even with the entrance closed; in fact, there were bright light coming from below. Arnved felt there's more oddities here, but cannot grasp what it was.

When the team reached the bottom of the stairwell, Arnved realized this wasn't an ordinary cellar, it's larger than any cellar that he had ever seen. Inside it was a labyrinth of shelves, racks and crates; with another exit to the surface on the far right side of the cellar, sealed with a thick metal door. The cellar didn't just store food, also specimens, cultural artifacts, contraptions the Assassin couldn't recognize; most of the items in here weren't even legal. The entire cellar was lit by a few Electrical Arc-lamps hung from the ceiling—a prototype stage invention that Arnved had only heard of its existence.

The Assassin leaned on a pillar, and poked out his head. The Templars were on the far left side of the cellar, but a stack of crates blocked his sight. Just as Arnved tried to move to a better angle, he suddenly felt a hand been placed on his shoulder; startled, the Assassin turned his head, he saw Ejner stood beside him with a grin, holding a smoke bomb in his palm. The Assassin gave a miffed glare in return, and took out his smoke bombs as well.

"Assassins!" The Templars descents into disarray as the white smoke filled the cellar, and all trace of order and discipline which they valued so much were nowhere to be seen. In near instance, screens of obscuring smoke filled the confined space, and saturated the air with the smell of _saltpeter and burnt sugar_. Arnved stepped into the fray, his Eagle sight pierced through the smoke screen, marking everyone in his view with a colored hue. He approached the nearest Templar, with his blade ready to strike.

"Where are you, _Svolochi!_"Said Templar yelled out, blindly swung his pistol around, trying to catch a glimpse of the Assassins, "Show yourself!" Arnved skirted behind him, and grabbed him from the back with a. "Behind you." The Assassin whispered as he stabbed the Templar with his blade, "Pokojsja s' mirom' (Rest in peace), Templar." The Assassin uttered the last rite in Russian as he withdrew his blade and then receded back into the white smoke to find his next target, like a bird of prey disappeared into the morning mist; while the Templar's body fell on its own. _One down, four to go._

Suddenly a loud gunshot echoed throughout the cellar, it was the Swedish man, fired in panic, shooting at ghost of his imagination. The Assassin drew his revolver behind cover, now that the firefight had broken out, there's no point for subtlety. But Ejner was one step ahead of him; the team leader wafted through the smoke like a phantom, fired twice at the Templar. _Two down, three to go._

As he fell the Templar, another shot echoed throughout the cellar. The bullet flown passed Ejner, almost hit him; and it forced the team leader stumble to cover. Arnved startled, _This wasn't a random shot, it's a carefully aimed one!_

The Assassin turned to its source; he saw the woman, Lady Samara, held her empty pistol behind a concreate pillar. The Templar woman ducked back into cover as she saw the Assassin aimed his revolver at her through the smoke; and Arnved's shot only chipped off a few concrete splinters. He cursed, and pondered, _How does she aim through all these smoke? Does she have _Eagle Vision_ as well?_

The Assassin maneuvered to a new cover, and noticed the smoke screens had starting to thin out. He turned to Ejner, the team leader confirmed his observation .Arnved was baffled; smoke shouldn't have dispersed this fast in a windless environment, since the air was still... _Hold a sec, still a_ir_?_ Realization stroke Arnved, he quickly pulled off his glove, dipped his finger on the tip of his tone, and held it in midair. As expected, there was a light breath flowing through the cellar; _A ventilation system!_ That explained the oddity Arnved felt when he entered the cellar. The Assassin scoffed_, just how much luxury do these Templars have?_

Now the smoke screen almost disappeared, the remaining Templars started shooting back with increasing accuracies, glass and wood splinters flied around the two Assassins, this battle was turning into a stalemate; the Assassins need a new advantage to turn the table around before the guards outside realized the fighting downstairs.

_The lights!_ The Assassin gestured to Ejner, pointed at the Electrical Arc-lamps, and mouthing the words. Ejner nodded, and raised his revolver; with each bullet fired, An Arch-lamp extinguished, within seconds, the cellar plunge into darkness. _Let's see if your Vision can work in complete darkness as well. _Thought the Assassin.

Arnved squeezed his eyes, tuning his Eagle sight and soon he the darkness faded from his view. At first he can only see colored blurs, then contours of objects, in the end the color of these objects started to emerge from the hues; within seconds, he can see everything clear as day.

Not for long, the Assassin heard the sound of revolver firing again, he peeked out the cover, and saw the shots coming from Donovan, who hid behind a wooden table flipped on its side, and caught the _Strobilus_ under his left armpit—a ruby-colored urn roughly the size of a fist, with vein-like whorls spiraled on its outer casing.

The treasure hunter held his revolver in the other hand, which had been loaded with a fresh new cylinder; he shot again, trying to hit Ejner for a second time, only to miss severely in the dark. _Rather poor timing_. Arnved thought, he reached around the cover with his gun right after Donovan's third shot, and saw the treasure hunter had ducked back behind the table, the Assassin bit back a grin, he estimated Donovan's position and lowered his aim; then pulled down the trigger.

The bullet punched through the wooden table with a bang, and followed by a thud sound as the body fell on the floor. _Donovan must be a poor judge of character,_ Arnved receded back to cover with a smile, _even when it comes to cover, he chose poorly. _

Now with Donovan down, the Assassins begin to approach the last two Templars—Samara and her bodyguard. From the corner of his eye, Arnved saw the Templar woman dived behind Donovan's body as he move passed a few crates and shelves. The Assassin sent two rounds through the table, only to have the woman return fired with Donovan's revolver. Arnved dodged, felt the turbulence as the bullet sped past him and cursed, _She must have used the dead body as a shield._

The Assassin tried to circle around that table; just as he darted behind a shelf full of specimens from British India, the Templar woman push the table sideways just enough for her to line up her gun. Arnved inhaled sharply, and watched her aimed through a gap between the shelves; with her cold blue eyes fixed on the Assassin, like a Valkyrie from the Sagas, who had already chosen her slain. Like any of those ancient warriors in the Sagas, Arnved felt his breath been taken away.

And then, _BANG!_

A revolver fire echoed in the cellar again, and Arnved watched the revolver flew out of Samara's hand. He turned to see Ejner striding towards the woman with his bayonet drawn, while throwing the empty gun away, and_._ The Assassin exhaled in relieves, _Perhaps not today._ He glanced at the woman's face as he cocked his handgun, seeing all the shock, fear, confusion and exhaustion mixed together. But the women quickly snapped out of those feelings; she swept up the _Strobilus, _and vaulted behind a stack of crates with perseverance, before Arnved can line-up a proper shot.

Suddenly a glimpse of red hue slithered into the Assassin's Eagle sight; it was the bodyguard who emerged from the darkness. The man approached in silence, held a straight fascine knife in one hand and a Danish pistol in the other; with the muzzle of his pistol remains fixed on Ejner despite all the darkness. _Another Templar with the Vision? _Arnved quivered, "Watch out!" he darted out of cover towards Ejner, trying to push his brother-in-arms out of the bullet's path.

The bodyguard fires first, the bullet grazed the team leader's loin, leaving a shallow wound. _Ejner!_ Arnved watched in shock, seeing his fellow brother crouched down with hand covering his wound, the Assassin swung his revolver in anger, aiming at the fleeing bodyguard and retaliated.

The bodyguard flinched as the bullet went through his shoulder, he dropped the pistol and stumbled backwards. The Assassin turned to Ejner with concern, but the team leader chided him with a glare, no words spoken, none need to. Arnved understood it tacitly: _Don't worry about me, go finish this!_

The Assassin tossed the empty revolver away, and plucked his hatchet; he turned to the bodyguard again, who was reaching for a flintlock sidearm hidden in his sash, identical to the model which Arnved picked up upstairs. The Assassin wasted no time, lunged towards the Templar with all his fury.

The Templar took a step back and parry Arnved's hatchet, he then swung the fascine knife around; guiding it straight to the heart. The Assassin hastily aback, narrowly dodged this lethal counter; the sharp edge of the knife left a narrow cut on the lapel of the Assassin's coat, and severed the strap of his satchel, Arnved felt the pull as his satchel slip away, and watched it flew out of his reach. With the extra burden gone, the Assassin attacked with even better initiative.

Arnved took to the offensive again; he slashed the hatchet toward the bodyguard, but the Templar shrewdly parried it, and riposted with his own knife, forced the Assassin back on the defensive. Arnved stepped back, and paused to sized up his opponent, tanned skin with tar-black hair, clad in Templar Armor; this man rarely takes initiative, he bind his time, patiently awaits his opponent to strike, and then calmly exploit the attacker's weakness with a decisive counter_. A familiar way of fighting_, scowled the Assassin.

Arnved heard the slash of swords as metals rang from behind, knowing Ejner had engaged the Templar woman; it's time to adjust his approach. The Assassin feinted with his hatchet in one hand, and spun out his pivot blade with another; the Templar parried with his knife, two blades rang as they clung, Arnved pressed on, tread his foot against the opponent's leg, forcing the Templar to the side and expose his wounded shoulder, the Assassin then brought his hatchet around, exploited his opponent's weakened arm. The Templar receded, so Arnved pushed forward, dazzling his opponent from all directions; riding on the momentum in his offensive, the Assassin tried to overwhelm the Templar's defense, create an opening for the kill.

His opponent continued to stumble aback, Arnved felt the scale of battle was tilting in his favor; that wounded arm had dragged the Templar down, the Assassin naturally focused on this soft spot. He had pressed his opponent on the defensives and left him unable to counter; if Arnved keep up with the offensives then his opponent would eventually yield. If, only if.

Soon the Assassin's attack began to wane, his momentum exhausted. Now his muscles began to ached, his limbs felt heavy, and sweats were coming down his forehead. Arnved's fatigue haven't gone unnoticed by his opponent, slow and steadily, the Templar started to press back; he blocked the Assassin's hatchet by the haft and led it sideways, then followed up with a kick; Arnved hopped backwards as he dodged; now his opponent turned to his side, with the wounded arm away from him, denying this vulnerable part to the Assassin, and then he began to take the initiative.

Arnved winced with frustration as he just realized, the Templar hasn't been dragged down by his wound; he was conserving his strength, and utilizing his vulnerability as bait! The Templar stroke with his knife repeatedly, each attack felt more powerful than the one before. The Assassin grunted, felt the shock as their weapons clashed. He could barely keep up with his opponent, and each strike pressed Arnved another step back.

The Templar pressed home his offence, thrusting his knife towards the Assassin's throat. Arnved lurched to his side, felt the chill as the cold steel scarcely missed his neck. Suddenly a women's squeal came from behind him; the Assassin did not turn, knowing any lapse of attention would create an opportunity for his enemy, his eyes remained fix on his opponent.

The Templar heard it too; though he stood unruffled, but his impassive face was but a mask of his emotion, the Templar's eyes betrayed his intension, the Assassin can sense the concerns in opponent's eyes, and perhaps something more. Whatever that was happening beyond Arnved's sight, had distracted the Templar bodyguard, and the Assassin saw his opponent's face darkened because of it, this might be the only window of opportunity Arnved would have; therefore the Assassin raised his hatchet and threw himself at the Templar, it's all or nothing.

"Get away from her!" Almost simultaneously, his opponent busted out an outcry and lunged forward with vigorous steps. The Templar intercepted the incoming hatchet, swung his arm around; his elbow landed right on bridge of Arnved's nose, and then he shoved the Assassin aside. Arnved fell to the ground and groaned in pain; he felt a torrent of warmth running down his nasal cavity, and the clear image from his Eagle sight faded, left a pitch black backdrop filled with stars.

The Assassin stumbled back on his feet, tried to shake off the dizziness in his head and attempted to refocus his Vision. Suddenly a ray of bright light pierced the blackness, lit up the cellar. Somehow, the _Strobilus _came alive during their fight, and now bathed the entire cellar with its golden glow. Arnved steadied himself, and like the others in the cellar, he fixed his gaze at the radiant Piece; his eyes hurt from the brightness, yet the Assassin could not turn away from its source, mesmerized by it like everyone else; and for a moment Arnved thought he heard a faint whisper fill the air, as if the artifact had a mind of its own, but the next second the phantom murmur disappeared like it was never there. _What will happen next?_ A vague thought passed through the Assassin's mind.

Ejner was the first one to react; he pushed the Templar women away, lunched himself at the _Strobilus. _The Templar bodyguard followed next, he stepped forward and reached for the weapon in his sash, exposing his back. _It's a chance!_ Arnved snapped himself out of the Piece's grip, lunged at the Templar from behind; he bent his opponent's knee with a kick, and griped the shoulder wound to force him down, the Assassin squeezed the wounded shoulder, prevented his opponent rise up. He drew back his other arm as the Templar cried, the hidden blade shot out with a _schwing_ sound, and the Assassin thrust it down at the Templar's neck.

But the Templar acted first, stroke the Assassin with his elbow. Arnved hunched forward, his stomach hit, and his blade missed. The Templar stroke twice, sent the Assassin lurching backwards. Arnved spat out, lost his grip. His opponent seized the opportunity, followed up with a back kick; Arnved hurried to block, but the brunt force sent the Assassin across the cellar. Arnved coughed as he rolled to the side, tried to push himself up, and felt sweetness in his throat.

The Assassin raised his head, and saw his team leader across the cellar, the Templar women pounced from behind him, thrusting her court sword at Ejner, and the _Strobilus_ flew out of the team leader's hand. Her bodyguard leaped forward, caught the artifact in midair; the _Strobilus_ rested in his palm, becoming even more luminous as the ruby casing unwrapped around the coiled whorls, opened like the _pithos_ of Pandora.

Now the _Strobilus_ casing resembled less of an urn, but more like a flower bud instead. The outer casing splits into a corolla of wing-shaped petals, revealing a semi-transparent ruby cup in its center, which reminded the Assassin of a yew tree's cone; within the cup, was the single source of light, a tiny golden nucleus—the _Strobilus _itself.

Arnved heard a series of pounding coming from the outside; the guards were trying to break into the cellar from the other entrance. Across the room, Ejner had been locked into the sword fight with the Templar women, and the _Strobilus_ sat firmly in the hand of her bodyguard.

The Templar bodyguard watched the shinning _Strobilus _rising from the cup with a triumphant smile, and an effluence of golden color surged out from it, creating a shimmering whirlwind of light; whatever that was happening with the _Strobilus_, was too late to stop it; soon enough, the Templars will have the artifact.

_The artifact mustn't fall into Templar's hand! Not on my watch!_ The Assassin cursed, pushed himself off the ground with all his strength, the trauma he suffered filled his every movement with agony, Arnved mustered up his _sisu,_ clenched his teeth and sat up. The Assassin reached for _Lucia_ on his back, unstrapped it, and straggled to switch _Lucia_ around in the confined space. Now the _Strobilus _had ascended in mid-air, the Assassin pointed _Lucia_ at the hovering artifact, _Even If I can't make it out tonight, I can make sure the Templars will not have the_ _Strobilus_, a single thought lingered in his mind as he took aim. Arnved did not know what the outcome might be, but he was ready to take this leap of faith.

Arnved took a deep breath, aimed Lucia at the Piece of Eden, and felt serenity fell around him, as if the world has faded away, leaving only his target, _Lucia_ and himself. The Assassin aimed true, and pulled down the trigger.

The bullet hit the _Strobilus_ dead on; a powerful shockwave unleashed from the impact_,_ vaporized the ruby casing below, and swept everyone off their feet. The impact sent the artifact into spiral, a glittering stream spilled out from its cracked surface as the golden Piece zipped fiercely across the cellar, drawing a gleaming trail in the air; the murmur was heard again, much more intense this time, growing from whispers into ranting. "You _bloody fool_!" the Templar bodyguard shouted in rage, "What have you done!"

Arnved ignored him, tried to load another round into the chamber; at the same time, a second shockwave swept across the entire cellar, a fissure appeared at the center of the room, like space itself torn open; and the _Strobilus_ zoomed straight into it, leaving a glittering trail behind; immediately, the fissure inflated, and a burst of snow poured out from it with a gush of cold wind. The Assassin clenched _Lucia_ tightly in his hands, and felt the chillness as tendrils of snow swirling around him. Finally the fissure erupted after another shockwave, and the last thing he could remember seeing was snow, endless plains of snow.

…..…..

…..…..

…..…..

The Assassin woke up in a snowdrift out in the wild, he didn't know how much time had passed, only it was daytime already; _At least the nose bleed had stopped_. Arnved thought as he sat up, head spinning, felt soreness in his throat and mild pain coming from every part of his body. _Where am I? _Wondered the Assassin; then a sudden headache shocked him, Arnved pressed his palm on his forehead, it felt like someone had stuffed something into his head, and it was squeezing his brain, but the next second, the sharp pain faded away, like it was never there.

When Arnved moved his hand away, the Assassin suddenly noticed something odd; Arnved paused, held up the arm and scrutinized his hidden blade carefully, the Assassin's emblem on the blade looked different, the once familiar symbol had been modified; right at the emblem's center, there's something more—the shape of a _crocus_ flower was added. _A crocus flower? Why is there a crocus flower on my emblem? _Arnved baffled, he stood up and surveyed his surroundings, find a road sign a few steps away pointing south, the writing on the sign reads: _City of Arendelle, 1/6 miil. _

_Arendelle? _The Assassin stared at it in confusion,_ Where on Earth is Arendelle?_

**A/N:Next Chapter: Kingdom in Isolation**

**A side note:** Due to the Scandinavia setting, I named my OCs based on local naming conventions, if you think the name Arnved is similar to Arno from AC:U, well, this isn't entirely coincidental. If my research is correct, the name Arnved came from old Norse "Arnviðr" which consists of elements a_rn_(Eagle) and _viðr(tree, forest)_, so to put poetically, I guess it could mean "forest eagle". (However, Arnved is actually a Norwegian name, not Finnish; the reason for this will be later explained in story.)

As for why he can speak Russian, back in 1846, Finland was a Grand Duchy under the Russian Tsar; so knowing a few Russian phrases would help.

Lastly, Christiania was the name of Oslo before 1877, then it was Kristiania, and finally Oslo from 1925 onwards.


End file.
